


Will You Come With Me?

by betweenfactandbreakfast



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Post-Series, Season 9, abortion-related issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenfactandbreakfast/pseuds/betweenfactandbreakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike accompanies Buffy to the clinic. Set during Season 9.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You Come With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Season 9, sometime between sometime. I haven't actually read all of it, but the pool scene was one of my favourite spuffy scenes to date and so, this happened.

_“Will you come with me when I do this?”_

How thankful she was he’d agreed, because without him she would probably have turned and fled in the opposite direction long ago.

It was dark when they arrived at the clinic, and most of the protesters who were usually amassed there had gone home by now, their ranks thinned by the late hour, and even more by the split second of fangface and grr that Spike showed them on the way in when they’d tried to grab her.

Buffy had to admit, it had been pretty funny the way everyone had scrambled back in horror. For about point-five seconds. Then they were ducking enlarged pictures of mutilated babies printed on cardboard, Spike acquiring a nasty burn on the back of his hand from a swinging cross, and Buffy... Buffy had seen, even done, terrible things in her short life, but this was one of the worst feelings she could remember. Guilt. Massive, overpowering, all-consuming Buffy Summers-type guilt.

The thing was, she knew she shouldn’t be feeling that way. Buffy was of course 100% and then some behind women’s healthcare and all of that, she knew _it_ wasn’t even alive and that she was doing nothing wrong, it was even for the best- and yet. Those dead baby signs were scarily effective. It felt like murder.

“Alright there?” Spike said. The sound of his voice and the knowledge of his presence was, as always, quiet reassurance and a tickly sort of warmth deep inside her. Unconsciously she reached for his hand, squeezed it. _He’s still here. He’s not going anywhere. Not while I hold onto him._

“Yeah.” The shake in her voice said otherwise, and he could obviously tell because he tugged her around to face him.

“Listen to me.” He snapped, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Those wankers back there, they don’t really give a damn about you or about the little blob of nonliving cells growing inside you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” She said again, quietly, feeling tears building up. Dammit. She wasn’t going to cry, she was gonna be strong.

“They’ve got no right to- to tell anyone, _especially you_ , that they’re saving lives. You’ve saved more lives-“

“So it all balances out in the cosmic scales of good and evil in the universe?” Buffy finished, humourlessly. She dropped his hand and began to walk again. “We’ve had this conversation, in Sunnydale-“

“That’s not what I meant.” Spike said impatiently. “I meant, you’re the one’s been out there, all this time. Helping, saving, doing cartwheels and stuff. It’s you knows what people face every day, and- and how they bleed, and why they cry. And it’s you knows how they can be saved. These fuckers haven’t got a single buggering clue what the world is really like, or they’d step aside and let you do what you need to.”

She stopped again, involuntarily rooted to the ground in front of the clinic door.

“Everyone who walks through those doors has a reason, Buffy.” He said, softly. “You said it yourself, it’s not about being the slayer.”

Finally, Buffy nodded. She was becoming hyperaware of a Something, a small twisting emptiness deep in her belly. Taking a breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

* * *

Later, they decided to get burgers.

Buffy’s fingers ran a nervous path along the formica countertop, then back again.

“Spike.” She said after a while.

“Buffy.”

“Do you think I made the right-“

“Yes.” He said, cutting across her without hesitation. Because that was what Spike did. He had her back, no matter what. Sending girls out to die, destroying the source of all magic- he had her back. It was what he did. What she needed. But not what she deserved. Like her personal support batman.

“You always think I make the right decisions though. It doesn’t count.” She moodily poked a straw through the lid of her milkshake.

“Uh, no, I _don’t_. Watching reruns of Dancing With the Stars until 6 AM with me was a terrible decision.“

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Spike replied, sprinkling vinegar over his fries (either a gross British thing or a gross Spike thing). “And I can’t see that it makes a damn bit of difference.  I don’t do it because I think you can’t make mistakes, or that you’re beyond fault or anything like that. And I don’t do it because of that adorable pout you’re giving me right now, either.”

Buffy rearranged her face hastily. “Right. ‘I’ve seen the best and the worst of you’, got it.”

“Don’t knock it, I’m bloody proud of that one. Been wondering if I shouldn’t write it down, or have Andrew record it for the Life and Times of Buffy Summers thing he’s working on.” Spike wiggled a vinegar-soggy fry in her direction. “Anyway, there’s one simple reason I’d follow you into hell if you said so.”

“The better to keep my ass in view the whole time?” Her voice sounded dumb and fake-cheery even to her. She didn’t want to hear it, _god_ did she not want to hear it, whatever it was he had to say. How strong or good or perfect she was, when that wasn’t even her anymore, Spike only thought so because he was a big dumb loyal stuck-in-the-past vampire. He was making such a big deal and all she wanted to do was curl up next to him in the dark and forget everything.

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a perk, but don’t try and deflect with semi-flirty banter, alright, it’s not gonna work on me.”

She slumped back against the squishy seat. “Fine.”

“The reason is, I believe in you. And I trust you. Not just with the contents of my Secret Girly Diary, if I had one, but with everything. My life, the life of that bloke reading the paper over there, the whole sodding world, Buffy.”

Right. Great. Being told she ought to be responsible for everything ever? Not exactly comforting. Maybe Spike was losing his touch.

Something must have shown in her face, because he shook his head. “No wait. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean you have to protect the entire universe, think you’re well past earning a rest from that particular burden. It’s just this feeling, you know? Like every part of me knows with utter certainty you’d do the right thing when it comes down to it. ‘Cause that’s just who you are. You follow your heart, and lucky for everyone around you, it’s a good one beating away in there, Summers.”

She became aware that her mouth was hanging slightly open like an idiot, and she closed it embarrassedly. God dammit, did he always have to say these… these _perfect_ things that made her head feel blessedly clear for the first time in forever, and some of the weight that always seemed to be pressing down on all sides lift away…. Dammit dammit _dammit_ , now he was looking at her with that stupid puppy expression, head tilted and eyes all gentle and warm. It was something that had always made her want to flee into his arms and cry it all out, even back in That Terrible Year in Sunnydale when he’d still been all sans soul. Maybe that’s why she’d gone to him, the contrast between his soft manner and the harsh, grating rest of the world. Of course then they’d gone and fucked it up, literally, and things had fallen deeper into disrepair from there. Which is why, she told herself sternly, it could never happen again. No matter the tingles she felt whenever they accidentally brushed skin, or the fact that all she wanted to do after a particularly good slay was grab him and-

No, stop. Bad Buffy thoughts. Christ, you’d think she’d have learnt by now. The minute romance and sex were brought into the equation things went to utter shit. Even that _Thing,_ that terrible World Ending Thing that she could barely even talk about, and a surprise pregnancy hadn’t been lesson enough to control sex-crazy Buffy Summers.

“So you’d better clog it up with cholesterol, now.” Spike said, indicating her untouched burger. “And don’t think I won’t notice if you don’t eat, because I will.”

Her chest felt tight with emotion, and she raised the burger to her lips.


End file.
